


promise me that they'll fall

by crimsonxflowers



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonxflowers/pseuds/crimsonxflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I see you boys have met Delta.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	promise me that they'll fall

**Author's Note:**

> brief thing in which the bash brothers get a jaeger. might end up being the first chapter of a series. title from "lionhearted" by porter robinson for Reasons.

Benny’s appreciative whistle is loud enough to carry through the whole Shatterdome; more than a few heads turn at the sound, out of place amidst the mechanical sounds of the launch bay. Not that he’s paying attention. He rocks back on his heels before hopping up on the railing, swinging his legs over the bars and leaning over the edge like a compass needle pulling north. Meyer swallows the urge to tug him back onto the catwalk, back to safety, and stands next to him instead.

The newest resident of Bay Four is a few hundred feet in front of them, all lethal lines and sleek gunmetal. About 270 feet, if Meyer had to guess, and a lighter frame than average. It’s an interesting design choice—the kaiju aren’t getting any smaller the longer the war goes on—but the apertures on her palms don’t escape Meyer’s notice.

He tears his gaze away from the jaeger, glances up at Benny instead. “That one ours?” he asks, and if his tone is already a little possessive, Benny at least won’t call him on it.

“Rohan said we were up next,” Benny says, not even trying to hide his grin. “Before she kicked me out of the lab and said not to come back unless I had somethin’ else ‘of actual scientific value’ to ask her, anyway.”

Meyer smirks at that, but discretion is the better part of valor, so he stays quiet in favor of watching the J-Techs threading some of the black carbon cables that serve as the jaeger’s muscle fibers through the joints in her arm. The faint blue glow of the capacitors beneath the interlocking plates of her forearm and the low-level electronic hum filling the bay mean LOCCENT is probably putting the jaeger’s systems through their paces. If they’re that far along she’ll be combat ready soon, and Meyer’s not sure how much of the impatience he’s feeling is Benny’s, infectious as always, and how much of it is his own.

“Meyer, Benjamin.” AR’s voice is quiet as always, but his words carry over the groaning metal and the hiss of blowtorches anyway. Meyer turns on his heel and snaps a salute, as rigid in his stance as Benny is sloppy, one palm still wrapped around the railing to keep his balance. “At ease,” AR murmurs, the wave of his hand calculatedly casual, and Meyer drops the salute to clasp his hands at the small of his back. Benny returns his focus to the jaeger—their jaeger, Meyer reminds himself—tracking the movement of the techs up and down the mechanical limbs with a fierce intensity. AR’s gaze shifts as Benny turns away from him, and the bare edge of satisfaction curls his lips as he looks the jaeger up and down. “I see you boys have met Delta.”

“Not yet,” Benny says, quiet as he ever gets. Reverent as he ever gets. He rocks forward a bit, like he can’t quite help himself, and Meyer would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same pull. She’s a beautiful machine.

And she’s theirs. Or will be.

Meyer glances back at AR, allowing himself the barest tilt of an eyebrow. “Delta, sir?”

“Full designation Martingale Delta.” AR allows a smile, to acknowledge the huff of amusement Meyer can’t entirely contain, before continuing. “She’s our second Mark-4, equipped with dual IA-20 Plasmacasters, best suited for close-range rapid-strike combat.”

At that, Benny tilts his head back at the two of them, teeth bared in an almost-savage grin. “Suits us just fine, huh Mey?” Meyer can’t help but smile back. More than one combat sim has ended with their LOCCENT tech or another ranger implying they’re better suited for a boxing ring than a battlefield. Sometimes it’s meant as a compliment. Sometimes it isn’t.

“She should be ready for deployment in two months,” AR interjects, the barest thread of censure in his voice. “I trust you boys won’t let her down.” What AR really means is clear enough, but his palm resting heavy on Meyer’s shoulder drives it home.

AR waits for Meyer’s sharp nod, glancing briefly at Benny’s back before he turns on his heel and then it’s just the two of them and Delta.

Meyer lets the rigidity drain away and leans his arms against the railing next to Benny, ignoring the pointed glance and raised eyebrow he directs at the spot AR’s hand had rested. Benny, charitably, leaves it at that—whether he can tell Meyer’s not interested in having that conversation in public or whether Delta’s consumed his attention again, Meyer’s thankful for it.

“Gonna explain the name or do I gotta figure it out myself?” Benny says, eyes still on the machinery before them. There’s no malice in it, just dry curiosity, and Meyer allows himself another grin.

“Delta’s the mathematical symbol for change, though it’s just as likely they picked whatever Greek letter sounded good,” Meyer comments wryly. “'A martingale is a gambling strategy to recover your losses by doubling down until you win again. It guarantees success, provided infinite time and capital.”

Benny doesn’t bother hiding his snort at that. “No shit. Three guesses who that came from,” he says acidly, and Meyer throws him a warning glance, out of obligation if nothing else. “Alright, alright,” Benny relents with a poorly-hidden eye roll, turning to face their jaeger again. He goes still when he looks at her, almost-relaxed in a way Meyer can’t remember Benny being since before… since before.

“Good name, though,” Benny says abruptly. Meyer glances over at him questioningly, and he shrugs under the scrutiny. “Sounds like a shitty strategy to me, considerin’, but hey, I hear it’s the end of the world,” he grins, tongue between his teeth. “Might as well try anything now, right?”

Meyer smiles back and shifts sideways enough to knock his shoulder against Benny’s side, the contact light but solid. “Might as well.”


End file.
